


Sometimes I Still Think You Will Walk Through The Door

by FlamboyantScientist



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Cemetery, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Modern AU, Post-Thorin’s death, This is pure angst, everyone is human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29497596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamboyantScientist/pseuds/FlamboyantScientist
Summary: “You were such an ass,” Bilbo muttered to the headstone in front of him.The headstone, expectedly, didn’t reply.Bilbo continued anyway, “When I said I would follow you anywhere, I didn’t mean to a slab of stone in a cemetery.” He paused, then added, “Ass.” for good measure.——This was a prize for my writing giveaway thing on Instagram (@marauderstwitterau) for one of the three winners, Naty (@natyxmakeup)!
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Bagginshield/Thorin Oakenshield (past)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 34





	Sometimes I Still Think You Will Walk Through The Door

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: post major character death, mention of blood, character pinches his arm to ground himself, character talks to a gravestone

For Naty (@makeupbynatyg) ❤️ congrats! 

Thorin died on a Tuesday. Just a random Tuesday. It wasn’t like he just dropped dead, his death was very much _not_ random, but the Tuesday was. It was in the middle of winter, and the lake was frozen over. It wasn’t thick enough to skate on, not yet at least, but the frost that kissed the lakeshore crunched underfoot, yet not in the same way autumn leaves do. 

Snow also absorbs blood very quickly. 

Bilbo pinched the skin on the inside of his arm quickly to stop that thought from developing into something more. 

It was not Tuesday, and it was not winter either. It was a Saturday morning in early May, and Bilbo was sat in the grass. He didn’t mind sitting in the grass, but the picnic blanket in the boot of his car was probably feeling awfully neglected right about now. 

Thorin’s picnic blanket. 

Bilbo often joked that Thorin was supposed to be a King — or born into a royal bloodline at least. Heavens forbid he had to sit on the floor or walk through the grass barefoot. So eventually, after about three months together, Bilbo had given in and bought a picnic blanket for Thorin so he didn’t have to take part in Bilbo’s impromptu naps in a field. 

Just to prove a point, Bilbo kicked his shoes off so he could wiggle his toes in the grass. 

No reprimand came. 

No reprimand had come for about a year and a half. 

“You were such an ass,” Bilbo muttered to the headstone in front of him. 

The headstone, expectedly, didn’t reply. 

Bilbo continued anyway, “When I said I would follow you anywhere, I didn’t mean to a slab of stone in a cemetery.” He paused, then added, “Ass.” for good measure. 

He sighed through his nose, drawing his knees to his chest and tilting his head back to look up at the sky. It was blue, and relatively clear of clouds, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. He sighed again 

“You’ve been dead for longer than we’ve been dating now,” He stated somewhat casually, although his voice did hitch over the adjective, “I... I don’t think that’s fair, actually. We had a whole year and two months, and now the ground gets you for... ever, actually. I don’t appreciate that.” 

The headstone still said nothing. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Bilbo hummed, “I knew you’d agree. Anyway, the others are all fine. I’m meeting Legolas later to visit Kili and Fili, that’s why he’s not here this morning, I know he usually comes with. But he’s working so... I got you to myself for a bit.” 

He decided quickly that the sky was getting boring to look at, so he turned to the headstone instead. It was unmoving, naturally, with engraved cursive lettering that Bilbo could read with his eyes closed at this point. 

_Thorin Oakenshield  
Beloved son, brother, and uncle _

Bilbo closed his eyes for a long moment, swallowing dryly against the lump in his throat. When he opened them again, both he and the headstone ignored the tears now shining through. 

“Sometimes I still think you will come through the door,” He admitted quickly and quietly. Something to just keep between him and the headstone. Something that he’d never tell Gandalf or the others because he should be _over_ this by now. Over Thorin. They’d been together for a year and two months, so _what_? He’d been dead for a year and four. 

“Anyway,” He swiped an arm over his eyes and sniffled, trying to erase evidence of the fact that he’d been _crying_. Not that anyone would know, no one could see him. It was just him and this _fucking_ headstone that he was talking to like it was a real person. Like Thorin could actually hear him. “‘M just an idiot, that’s all. You’re an ass, and I’m an idiot. I just miss you.” 

His phone buzzed before he could say anything else embarrassing, and he struggled to fish it from his pocket. The text messages across the front of the screen were all gibberish, however, and the next one that came through was all emojis. Gandalf had given Frodo his phone, it seemed. 

He felt around himself for his shoes, pulling them back on with more force than was necessary, “I left Frodo with Gandalf, y’know how he is.”

Thorin would usually reply _“Frodo, or Gandalf?”_

The headstone didn’t. 

“I better go and pick him up, before they _both_ get worse.” 

Leaving his laces undone, Bilbo grabbed his phone from the grass and pushed himself to his feet. Without thinking, he pressed two fingers across the top of the headstone before freezing. 

“God, I’m so gay,” He huffed around a laugh, but it sounded sadder that it was supposed to, “Well... see you.” 

And if he almost stumbled straight into the nearby oak tree because his foot had gone numb, nobody needed to know. That was something else he could keep between himself and the headstone.


End file.
